“God, yes,” I cry, the voyeurism hitting harder as I imagine how we must look—me impaled on Jamie, Miles’s fingers working me over. He spanks my ass again, harder this time, the slap echoing. “Beg for more.”
“Please, Miles—touch me,fuck.” My voice is wrecked, body trembling as Jamie’s cock hits deep with every roll of my hips. Miles spits on his fingers, rubbing them over my back entrance teasingly before focusing back on my clit, circling fast. The dual sensation—Jamie’s thrusts, Miles’s rough touch—pushes me toward the edge again.
“Switch,” Jamie says after a while, voice strained. They move me like I’m theirs to position, experienced hands guiding without hesitation. Now Miles is beneath me, his cock sliding into my pussy with a groan. “Fuck, princess, you’re so tight.” He’s thicker inside, stretching me differently, and I ride him hard, chasing the friction.
Jamie stands in front, feeding his cock back into my mouth. “Suck while he fucks you, baby.” I do, choking on him as Miles thrusts up, one hand choking my throat lightly, the other spanking my ass in rhythm. “You crying again? So fucking pretty—love seeing you like this.”
Tears stream down my face, whimpers muffled around Jamie’s dick, but it’s ecstasy, their focus solely on pleasuring me, making me feel adored in the filthiest way.
“Come on my cock, princess,” Miles demands, his free hand rubbing my clit now. Jamie pulls out of my mouth, spitting into it again before kissing me messily. “Yeah, baby, let go—give us that.”
I shatter a second time, walls clenching around Miles as I scream, body convulsing between them.
They don’t stop.
Jamie flips me onto my back and pounds into me with the condom still on, Miles jerking himself over my chest.
“Gonna come on you, baby—mark you as ours for tonight.”
His words send me spiraling, another orgasm ripping through as Jamie follows, groaning as he fills the condom deep inside me.
Miles comes last, hot spurts landing on my tits and stomach, his hand milking every drop while he watches me with those intense eyes. “Look at you, princess—so beautiful covered in us.” I lie there panting, spent and sticky, their hands gentle now, wiping me clean with a nearby shirt.
Jamie kisses my forehead. “You okay, baby?”
Miles nods, brushing my damp hair back. “We made you feel good, right?”
I nod, tears of a different kind now—overwhelmed, sated. “Yeah. So good. Memories... I’ll remember this.” It’s just one night, I tell myself. But as they pull me between them on the couch, holding me close, I wonder if leaving will be as easy as I thought.
The afterglow lingers, their touches turning tender—Jamie’s fingers tracing lazy patterns on my arm, Miles’s hand resting possessively on my hip. We don’t talk much, just breathe together, the weight of what’s happened settling in.
I’ve never felt so wanted, so utterly consumed.
My body’s sore in the best way, echoes of their cocks and mouths still pulsing through me. Flashes replay of Jamie’s tongue on my clit, Miles’s hand around my throat, the way they switched seamlessly, always focused on me.
“You’re incredible, Chloe,” Jamie whispers, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. ‘Don’t forget that.”
This night wasn’t what I planned, but it’s etched into me now—rough edges and all. A memory to carry, even if it’s the last.
But as sleep tugs at me, sandwiched safe between them, part of me hopes it’s not.
24
Chloe
Theringingdrillsstraightthrough my skull before I even open my eyes. Sharp, insistent. I reach out blindly, fingers brushing warm skin instead of a phone. The arm around my waist tightens, pulling me back against a chest that’s solid and slow-breathing.
I blink once. Twice. The room swims into focus—the half-finished painting on the easel, the scent of turpentine still in the air, last night scattered in the folds of my sheets. Then the memory hits, hot and dizzying, and my stomach flips.
Oh God.
I turn my head. Miles. Still asleep, lashes dark against his skin, mouth relaxed. I twist the other way and there’s Jamie, one arm thrown over his face like the light offends him.
My pulse is everywhere at once. I slip free, careful not to wake either of them, and grope around the floor for my phone. The ringing finally stops—then starts again. I find it tangled in a hoodie near the easel. The caller ID flashes on my screen.Mr. Cadwell.
My father’s lawyer. I had asked for his help with my visa. I look back at the men in my bed and feel a sudden dread in the pit of my stomach.
I was so sure I was ready to relocate and leave this whole life behind, but just one night with them and they have turned me greedy.
